


Did They Know?

by onlyhereforellick



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, F/M, alt ep 18x05, and 18x06 kind of, tw: some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyhereforellick/pseuds/onlyhereforellick
Summary: She’ll be back in no time.
Relationships: Ellie Bishop/Nick Torres
Comments: 11
Kudos: 92





	1. No Time

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my take on how 18x05 & 18x06 will play out!
> 
> (I'm going to post in short parts, but will be updated frequently throughout the next day or so)

A dull ringing sounded far off in the distance, slowly increasing in volume till she realized it was her own ears.

Blinking once, twice, her eyelids felt like sandpaper.

A sharp pain originated from above her left eye, radiating across her forehead.

She blinked again, fighting to see through the blackness of her new world.

Nothing.

A vain attempt to clear the aching, low-hanging fog, again.

Nothing.

The instinct to form fists and rub her eyes clear to see through the black set in.

And was met with sharp resistance.

_What the fuck…_

Her head felt like it weighed a thousand tons, eyes seemed shut despite being open, the low buzzing never leaving her senses.

Slowly, her mind awakened and tuned into her body.

Right shoulder: a sharp ache as it twisted behind her.  
Left ankle: a slight twinge as it crossed below her unmoving.  
Left hand: a dull soreness accompanied her clenched knuckles.  
Right cheek: a blossoming pain sharpened its focus along her face.

She blinked twice again, still nothing but black. Not a speck of light to be found in this mysterious room. Inhaling, nothing but the smell of musty wood met her nostrils. Shifting slightly, she felt more than heard the creak of an old wooden chair underneath her. Straining her still-ringing ears, not a sound outside of that rhythmic hum reached her ears. And finally, twisting gently, she confirmed her sneaking suspicion—ankles and wrists bound with thick, boating-grade rope.

Ellie was captured.

Captured without a clue in the world how she got there, when they took her, or where she was.

A pit the weight of a lead ball settled in her stomach.

_Did they know?_

* * *

Whistling that catchy new radio tune, something about saving his tears, Nick strolled out of the elevator rounding the corner to an empty bullpen. His step faltered every so slightly. He was almost never the first person in the office, and quickly sparing a glance at his watch- it was not _that_ early.

McGee being out made sense, he was currently laying low at home after their orchestrated “shooting” on the airstrip. Needed to keep the Colombian drug cartel believing Gibbs truly did injure McGee and therefore trustworthy. Which, also explained Gibbs being out. He was Tobias’ backstop, identity confirmed the moment he “sniped” McGee so that Fornell could escape with the head honcho on that plane. He couldn’t as well casually waltz up to the Navy Yard if he wanted to keep Fornell from being made.

But…Ellie should be here. Nick should’ve seen her oversize black trench coat hanging over the cubicle wall. Her backpack discarded in the corner. Laptop open, keys clicking away as she continued hunting down their leads from last night.

Ellie was _always_ here before him. Only on rare occasions for coffee stops before work was she late.

That thought brightened the path his mind was slowly spiraling down.

She’d just stopped to get them coffee, well a protein shake for him likely, but still. Just needed some extra fuel to get back into it. After all, they _had_ been burning the candle on both ends the past few days. So close to bringing down the entire cartel that resulted in Emily’s overdose, they could practically taste it.

He’d seen how personal Ellie had taken this of late. She’d had a heart to heart with Emily a few weeks back and he swore she’d never looked back. She seemed hellbent on finding these assholes, and knew they needed every last drop of energy they had.

_Surely_ , Nick thought, _she was just out to grab some desperately needed caffeine. She’ll be back in no time._


	2. Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No sign of her.

With time, her eyes adjusted. Pitch black was replaced with shadowy outlines. Shadowy outlines were replaced with distinct objects. Seemingly random objects, but objects nonetheless.

Ellie felt her head pound as she tried to remember the past twelve, twenty-hour, longer? hours. Her stomach rolled at the thought of how long she’d possibly been here. And if the team even knew…

They had to though. Certainly they’d realize she was missing. If no one else, Nick would.

_Right?_

Ellie shook her head instinctively and instantly regretted the motion. Shutting her eyes forcefully she attempted to focus. Even if she couldn’t remember how she got there, she could sure as hell fight to get out.

Her wrists twisted, reminding her of their binds. She toyed with slipping her hands from the ligatures and winced as the coarse rope shredded her thin skin. But she swore there had been give- a minuscule amount, but something she could work with.

Testing her ankles, she realized they were weakly bound to the chair. _Honestly, child’s play_ , she thought. Toeing off her converses, she quickly tested her ability to slide her pointed foot from the bind. The rope stung slightly, but without her shoes, there would easily be enough room for both feet to slip free.

Now the intellectual warfare. Did she attempt her breakout now? Did she wait for her captor to return? Maybe see if there was an established pattern? She’d only been conscious for less than an hour, not nearly enough time to know if they came and went freely and frequently. Not even enough time to know if there was someone keeping watch close by.

But she’d taken her shoes off. If they came in now, they’d know she was plotting her escape.

_Shit, it had to be now._

* * *

His eyes anxiously drifted over behind his shoulder from where he stood staring at the bullpen monitor to Ellie’s still empty desk. Again.

Two hours.

No sign of her.

He extracted his arm from his folded, tense stance to flip his wrist and check his watch despite knowing exactly what time it was. Undercover training never wore off. He knew the time and date without ever checking technology. His internal clock still going strong several years later.

Ten past ten.

Just like he thought.

He’d heard from McGee, even got a check-in from Gibbs. Neither had heard from Ellie. Neither seemed concerned.

Nick was far past concerned.

He was pretty sure he could count on one hand the number of times Eleanor Bishop had ever been late. And that was an overstatement.

He whipped out his phone from his back pocket to check his call log, again. As if he’d missed a call, again.

Only 13 outgoing calls gone unanswered.

_Fuck._

Any law enforcement officer would tell him he needed twenty four hours to be sure. But he knew, Nick knew.

Ellie was missing.

And if he listened to the voice in the back of his head and the instinct in his gut—Ellie was kidnapped.

He needed to do something. He needed to find her- alive. Nick refused to think about any other alternative.

He didn’t have twenty four hours. _Ellie_ didn’t have twenty four hours.

_It had to be now._


	3. Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He failed.

Right ankle first, pointing her toe Ellie felt her sock catch on the rope and tugged harder—the wooden chair groaning in protest as she shifted her weight. Muffling a curse, she froze. Terrified the noise of the chair as it echoed across the room would alert any guards she had outside the door.

When two minutes past and nothing changed, she continued her pursuit of freeing her feet. Finishing the job for her right and stretching out that ankle, she moved to her left. Knowing this was the one that ached earlier, Ellie braced herself for the pain.

Yet nothing prepared her for the white, hot blinding pain shooting up her leg as she pointed and tugged on the ligature. Her has snapped shut, teeth ground together as she held in the absolute shriek she wanted to release. Yet even as the sweat broke out across her brow, the pain triggered a series of images flashing through her mind- like a movie, except she was starring in it.

_A dark alley._   
_The sound of rats tinkering behind the dumpster._   
_An object pressed against her back._   
_Spinning until something struck her face._   
_Body twisting sharply as she met the cold, wet ground._   
_Fade to black._

Ellie shivered at her sudden intrusive flashback. She still couldn’t place the alley or her attacker, but she now had an explanation for her throbbing cheek and ankle.

Focusing on the present and her ticking clock, she grit her teeth purposefully this time and dug her nails into her palms. A mental countdown preceded the sharp, final yank to free her likely broken ankle. She was pretty sure she drew blood from biting back her scream, but the relief at knowing she was halfway to her escape washed over her.

Slowly unfolding herself from the chair, Ellie swore her joints groaned. That essentially confirmed it, she’d easily been sitting there at minimum twelve hours. Her hands still tied behind her back, Ellie began to tiptoe around the room- a vain attempt at understanding where she might be held captive.

Stumbling up to a cargo box, an idea blossomed. She could potentially use the weight and corner of the box to help with the ligatures on her wrists. Her ankle protested as she squatted down to hook the rope on the sharp corner, but she pressed on. Using all her strength she pulled up—the backs of her hands shouting in agony as the rope burned her already delicate skin.

But she felt the rope give just a bit more.

Hope surged.

Repositioning herself, she got ready for round two. She could ignore her broken ankle and raw hands if it meant escaping. She had to. She knew her time unattended was winding down.

Another powerful lift from the knees and the rope made it to her knuckles before getting caught. But the sheer, excruciating friction of her burns weren’t what made her pause.

A heavy metal lock unlatching sounded from the dark recesses of her holding room.

Ellie froze.

Hope sunk.

_They were back._

* * *

It was the fury for Nick. The fury he was trying desperately to stifle and hide from the remainder of the team. Fury for not taking this seriously. Fury for them dragging their feet. Fury for whoever dared lay a hand on Ellie. Fury for imagining her bound and lifeless in a room—his worst nightmare come to life.

That fury spurred him on even if he had to keep a lid on its entire glory.

McGee and Gibbs had given him a placating, “we’ll keep an ear out,” or some nonsense as they continued to plot how to take down this drug cartel. Fornell was still MIA despite his return flight supposedly touching down last night. Vance and Jack had taken a heavy interest in anything but the bullpen—maybe it was the vibe he was giving off.

He didn’t care.

Even if he had to find Ellie himself, he would.

But here he was, almost an entire day into searching for where she’d gone to no avail. Security footage showed her leaving the Navy Yard several hours after he had but nothing, anywhere, after that. Not only had she stayed later to work than he had, but he couldn’t even find CCTV footage to show her arriving back at her apartment. Knowing she had been blindsided in the streets of DC made him sick to his stomach. He should have been there for her. He should have protected her.

Nick punched his stack of files on the desk top beside him.

He wasn’t there for her.

He failed.

But he wouldn’t this time.

A text chimed, and Nick hungrily picked up his phone, praying it was somehow Ellie- knowing it wouldn’t be.

McGee with an update that Fornell was back and headed to Gibbs’ place to plan a new sting.

How the hell they could even fathom some other op right now grated on his nerves. Yet, there was the incoming call from Gibbs and the gruff, “grab your gear,” commanding him to meet at some suburb neighborhood with a van and maintenance uniform.

_Fucking great._

Now not only did he have to stop his search for Ellie, but he had to confront Fornell. The man so hellbent on bringing down the cartel that overdosed Emily, his reckless actions likely got Ellie kidnapped.

As he rounded the bullpen to the elevator and longingly glanced at Ellie’s empty chair, he vowed he’d find her. He’d find her before her kidnapper could lay another hand on her.

_I’ll be there, Ellie. Soon._


	4. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He snapped.

The latch slowly unhinging, Ellie’s mind spun, trying to decipher a plan of attack for her still-bound self.

One last Hail Mary to unbind her wrists was her only chance at surviving the predicament she found herself in. Giving it her absolute all she jerked her hands upwards, swallowing the fire the rope set off along her skin as it blessedly slipped free.

The door creaked as a sliver of light shone, announcing her kidnapper’s arrival. Ellie ducked to grab the rope off the floor to hold behind her back. Twisting it around the burning backs of her hands into her palm, readying her only option of a weapon.

Glancing around as the door continued to swing open, Ellie knew there was no where else to hide. This was it. Turning to face the door, back of her legs to the cargo box, she readied her stance.

The silhouetted figure outlined in a stark white-yellow light momentarily blinded her as they entered the room. A deep, low chuckle sounded- setting the hair on the back of her neck on edge. It’s sound triggered another memory—her heavy body slowly fading into unconsciousness as the sound of a rough chuckle serenaded her to sleep. His shiny revolver glinting in the moonlight the last thing Ellie saw before she awoke in a wooden chair.

The bastard hadn’t even been man enough to fight her.

He’d snuck up behind her, pressed a gun to her back and pistol-whipped her the second she attempted to flee.

_Fucking coward._

Ellie was prepared to fight now. It wouldn’t be brute force though, that much was obvious as his built, practically seven foot frame loomed closer and closer to her. Ellie knew she had him with wits though. She could, and would, outsmart this buffoon in a fight.

_First though_ , she thought wickedly, _let’s have some fun._

And as his figure stepped further into the room and the door swung shut, the latch catching loudly, Ellie felt her adrenaline spike. Despite the return of the shiny revolver in his left hand.

He still hadn’t said a word, and yet Ellie had to hold back a smirk as she took in the blooming purple hue to the bridge of his nose.

She’d landed her elbow in that alley just as she’d hoped.

A low grumble and Ellie tensed as she prepared for his first words, “Thought you could run away little butterfly?”

The insinuation she was helpless only spurred her on.

Another deep chuckle, “That’s cute, honey. That little angry look you’ve got.” His right hand reached out to caress her bruised right cheek and it took all her power not to flinch. “It doesn’t suit you. You should smile more,” his own lips formed an evil twist of a smirk with his words, “And stay,” his face morphed into rage, “ _seated_ ,” he growled as the same hand made forceful contact with her already bruised cheek, sending her spinning to the ground.

Righting herself to a sitting position, unbound socked feet straight out in front of her, unbound hidden from view hands still gripping her rope behind her.

The look of determination etched across her features.

Her plan was working.

His left hand flaunted the pistol as he stepped closer and reached up to scratch his head. Another chuckle.

Ellie weighed her options, stand up now…or let him get a tiny bit more comfortable.

With a devious upturn of her lip, she knew the best course.

Her kidnapper apparently didn’t like her smiling, and much to her delight, the butt of that pistol made contact right above her left eye. The force sent Ellie’s torso collapsing to the ground as a shout of pain at the hit escaped her lips. The smile it put on his lips soothed Ellie’s mind despite the blood she felt trickling down her face from the new gash.

_Just you wait_ , she thought evilly.

* * *

Nick had held it together the drive there. He’d held it together the entire operation. _Failed_ operation. He’d held it together on the entire drive back to HQ. Even the walk up to Vance’s office. Even when Vance was droning on about procedure and Gibbs stood by ignoring every word he said.

But when Fornell had the _audacity_ \- the audacity- to bitch about _them_ being the reason he hadn’t caught Emily’s drug dealers yet.

He snapped.

He couldn’t keep the fury back anymore.

It had been a whirlwind, Nick honestly wasn’t sure what all he said. There were some curses flying, there were some heated glances at not only Fornell, but also Gibbs and Vance. There was the repeated, “Bishop was _kidnapped_.”

And in the end, Nick had stormed out of Vance’s office, slamming the door behind him.

Not sparing a look back, he was down the stairs, in the elevator and into his car in a heartbeat.

He had no clue where he was going, but for fuck’s sake he was finding Ellie.

He’d start at the hanger and he’d search every last building if that’s what it took to find her.

The feeling of her alone, injured, trapped.

Nick shivered involuntarily.

He couldn’t afford to dig deep into why that feeling gutted him to his core. He’d table that for another time.

Pulling up to the airstrip, he thought resolutely, _he’d find her_.

_Hopefully it wouldn’t be too late._


	5. Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This would be easy.

She’d faded in and out for maybe an hour or so if she has to guess. That last hit certainly did do her presumed concussion any favors and her sense of time might be a touch off.

But her plan wasn’t.

Her plan was working perfectly.

The big oaf had been so rattled and enraged, he forgot to retie her ankle binds she confirmed with a roll of both feet- only wincing slightly with her left. The pain subdued in comparison to the pounding in her head.

If she profiled him right, he’d be back in less than ten minutes. She had to stay alert and ready until then.

Hands readying themselves, strengthening their grip on the coarse heavy-duty rope, even as the back of her hands screamed in protest from the fresh burns.

Eyes steeled, shoulders tensed, jaw set. She counted down the minutes, and lo and behold with only five seconds to spare she heard that damned lock begin to unlatch.

_Go time, bastard._

Less pleasantries this time, if that was even possible. Door open and slammed shut jerkily. Same lumber over to her slouched position on the floor in front of the cargo box. Pistol still gleaming in the lowlight of the room.

But then he made his fatal mistake.

Hovering over her, he bent down to sneer in her face. Ellie errantly noting a gold tooth amongst the slimy yellow-stained remainder. His eyes glazed over, too proud to see he’d just walked into her trap.

Several months ago she would’ve been able to, she’d have said it was a move reserved for movies. Today however, today was different.

In the blink of an eye Ellie had her legs intertwined with his, scissoring his frame, and in less than a two count had him toppling to the floor in a heap. The look of complete shock flashing across his face spurring her on.

Ignoring the sharp pain of her ankle, she untangled and jumped to her feet, bringing the rope once used to hold her captive to the front of her.

Pouncing on top of the man easily twice her size, knee to the dead center of his back, the coarse rope wrapped nicely around his neck.

Ellie could feel his heavy body squirm, arms flying trying to get a handle on her- the rope- anything. His legs kicking and hips twisting in a vain attempt at bucking her off.

She was having none of it.

Tightening that rope even more and digging her bony knee into his spine Ellie felt the surge of power rip through her. She knew she should reign it in, she didn’t set out to kill the man. But _man_ , that power felt _good_.

And with that scary thought, she felt his body slow down, arms finally falling limp to his sides. Immediately she released- not pressing past the point of unconsciousness.

She wasn’t a killer.

Well.

Not right now.

Her chest heaved as the exertion caught up to her and her eyes swung wildly around the room, landing on the door.

Sparing one last glance at the man blacked out on the floor, she hobbled to the door, pausing at her next step.

She gripped the rope tight in her one hand and the cold metal of his stolen pistol in the other.

No matter who was behind this door, she was ready.

_It was now or never._

* * *

Nick’s already thinned patience was officially evaporated by the fifth hanger he’d tried.

Clearing every single building while not even sure Ellie would _actually_ be there draining. It took all his strength not to focus on the worst case scenario.

She’d be alive. She’d be there. She’d be alive.

It was his mantra. It was his only hope.

Pulling up to the sixth building, more of a storage office space, he cut the lights and engine quickly. Noting a few sedans around the side, he felt an emotion close to hope being to bubble up inside him.

He felt it in his gut. _This was it. She was here._

A quiet click shut of his door and gun already drawn at his side, he slunk to the door. A quick peak in and he counted two men.

_This would be easy._

It took two minutes and five hits. Not even a single shot fired. Nick felt the surge of anger and worry roar within him as he took in the large industrial door with a heavy deadbolt behind the men.

_Ellie_.

But before he could move the latch turned and the door began to move.

His gun was up and aimed within a millisecond.

And when it was met with a silver pistol wielded by a ragged blonde, Nick almost fainted.

He couldn’t hide the desperation and relief from his tone, “ _Ellie_!”

His gun holstered in an instant as he saw her weary eyes take in his form, pistol shaking ever so slightly at the likely adrenaline rush. She looked on the brink of collapsing.

And at that thought, she did.

Her knees buckled and thankfully, Nick’s reflexes caught her before she hit the ground. Cradling her thin torso in one arm, other hand brushing the matted, blood-stained hair from her face, he felt peace.

Her weak voice sent out a chuckle and he swore it was music to his ears, the next words from her mouth a gift from heaven. A raspy whisper, but it was still his Ellie, “You _knew_.”

It didn’t take a second longer to grasp her relief. She feared they’d never find her, didn’t even know she was missing.

Nick couldn’t help it, he delicately brushed a thumb over her bruised right cheek. Swallowing past the lump that had formed in his throat at the onslaught of emotions, Nick soldiered on, “Always. I’ll always find you, Ellie.”

And he knew he meant every damn word.


End file.
